The Dog Was Staying

I wrote back to a potential adopter and said I still had my dog.

The month before, I had prepared a classified post about finding a new home for my young Weimaraner. I talked with people who might take her. The conversations made the decision real and made it harder.

I had struggled with the idea of parting with her. I was going to keep pushing through the problems instead.

The people who answered the ad shared private parts of their own lives. Those details stay with them. This was my decision, not their story.

The snow photo here was taken on Christmas, between the puppy summer and the classified post. She was already part of the house and the normal plans.

In January I had made a path for her to leave. In February I closed it.

The dog was staying. I would work out the rest with her at home.

I sent the answer to the people who had been waiting. They had offered another home and understood that the choice was difficult. I thanked them and closed the conversation.

In January I had opened a path for the dog to leave. In February I stopped using it.

Same dog. Same house. Decision made.

The classified post had never become the clean answer it looked like on the confirmation page. Talking to actual people made the handoff real. Keeping her was not the easy version either, but it was the answer I sent.

The snow photo was already on my computer. Now the dog in it was staying with me.